


Let Her Go

by LockLove



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dream Sex, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Gen, Other tags may follow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 00:43:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1325335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LockLove/pseuds/LockLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Sherlock is a Professor at a small college in America. Meets and falls in love with Natalie McKesson. All is not what it seems on this picturesque little campus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drop/Add

Chapter One

 

"Oh dear, I never saw you coming. Oh, my, look what you have done..."

 

~

 

"Are you lost? You look a bit lost. Feel free to hit me if I’m wrong." He grinned mischievously. His reddish auburn hair was a bit long and mostly hid beneath a ball cap. Natalie couldn't help but notice his crystalline blue eyes. 

 

"No hitting, and not wrong." she smiled back at him. "I just got here, and if I don’t get myself turned around in the right direction, I’ll be late for my ﬁrst class."

"Let me see your schedule." He took the blue sheet of paper she handed him. “First off, never show a strange man your schedule." He laughed when she narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh, you have Latin…oh.” He frowned

"What?" Natalie frowned, too.

"You have Latin with our newest Latin teacher, he’s only been here a couple of semesters."

"Is that bad?"

"Depends." He shrugged. "I’m headed to the English department, you can just follow me."

"If I’m not supposed to show my schedule to strange men, I’m pretty sure following them is out of the question." She took her schedule back from him.

"You’re probably right about that, but, to be honest, I’m not very strange. Plus, it’s broad daylight and the Sydney building is just next door, with only about four hundred students in between."

"Charming." Natalie rolled her eyes. "I’m only giving in here because I really need to get to class."

"Of course." He started walking down the tree-lined sidewalk toward a tall brick building. "This is The Sydney." He smiled as he opened the door for her. "I think several of your classes will be here."

"Thank you," she replied, slipping past him into the cooled air of the building.

"Good luck with your classes," he said as he walked backward down the hall, then turned and hurried away.

"Thanks again!" She waved to his back. Damn, she thought to herself, I didn’t get his name, and he was so incredibly cute, I could die. Taking a deep breath, she headed for the third ﬂoor and her ﬁrst class. I mean, really, who takes Latin ﬁrst thing? She thought as she took a seat in the middle row. Not in the front or back, or on either end, but perfectly in the middle, where she might be left alone. 

She sighed to herself again. And why didn’t I get his name, for God’s sake? Now I’ll probably never see him again. I can’t even thank him properly. She shook her head to clear it when she started to think of all the ways to thank him. This would be a very long class if she couldn’t 

 

~

 

Sherlock sat in the small ofﬁce adjacent to the classroom, his hands steepled under his chin, his eyes closed. The ﬁrst day of classes always exhausted him. Thirty kids in one tiny space. The amount of information that ﬂooded his brain was overwhelming. He’d quickly found a way to block most of it, but it took a bit of time to ready himself.

He heard the side door open and close quietly. His TA had grown accustomed to his routine and had learned not to disturb him.

"David," he said, suddenly, "How many students in the next class?"

"Uh…twenty-seven before add/drops."

"Ugh, tedious." He glanced at his watch. "I suppose it’s time."

"Yep." David nodded. "I’ll just be here looking over these papers you assigned the ﬁrst day of class."

David’s sarcasm was not lost on Sherlock. He grinned. “Good then, I’ll see if I can assign some more for you to peruse.” He was out the door before his TA could reply.

"Good morning, class. And now we’ll dispense with the pleasantries. I’m Professor Holmes, this is Latin 201. If you’re here by mistake, now is the time to leave." He glanced up at twenty-seven nervous faces and smirked. "Cell phones will not be tolerated, except mine. If you’d like the same privilege, work hard and become a professor and make your own classroom rules. Tardiness, zero tolerance. That door” --he pointed towards the door at the back of the classroom-- "will be shut at the beginning of each class, starting next class. It’s only open today because of the drop/add period. Once this week is over, if that door is shut, you may not come in. I’m not your mother, if you don’t come to class that’s not my issue. However, if you don’t come to class, your participation grade goes down, you won’t know the material, you may miss a quiz, you won’t know when tests are and you’ll fail. In short it’s easier for you to come to class. Emergencies do happen, but please do not come crying to me if you grow lazy and fall behind."

Another quick glance around, another smirk…until his eyes met hers.

"Now…" Now, what? He thought in a near panic. Stop staring at your student, he admonished himself, have you gone mad? He cleared his throat. "Now, we’ll go around the room, just once, and call roll."

"Just once?" asked a boy in the back row.

"Just once," Sherlock answered, eyeing the boy. "I have an excellent memory."

~

 

Natalie. Natalie McKesson. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? When he ﬁrst noticed her, he had noticed her lovely green eyes and that she was smiling. No one smiled at his start of term rant. No one! She had. The whole time. Put that girl out of your mind, Sherlock Holmes. She's a student. He nodded, agreeing with himself wholeheartedly. Except, not two minutes later, he was thinking of her again.

"Prof," David said for the fourth time.

"Do try not to call me that." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Mr. Holmes, Professor Holmes, for God’s sake, Sherlock is preferable to Prof." He spat out the last word as if it tasted badly.

"I’m never going to ﬁnish these papers, Professor Holmes. Are you planning on helping?"

"No. I have a meeting"

"In two hours," David ground out between clenched teeth.

"Hmmm, what?" Sherlock barely responded.

"You know, I really don’t need this. I do have my own work to do."

Sherlock leveled him with a laser gaze. “Then why are you wasting time talking to me?”

"Fuck this, and fuck you." David stood and grabbed his bag, not caring that he was yelling now. "Good luck ﬁnding anyone else who’ll put up with your ridiculous bullshit!" He slammed the door as he left the ofﬁce.

Sherlock steepled his ﬁngers under his chin "People, tedious"

~

 

Natalie felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. If she had thought the boy from before was handsome, nothing could compare to this. Professor Holmes was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen in person. No, gorgeous didn’t quite cover it. When he looked at her with those turquoise eyes she had nearly swooned. She was so not the swoony type.

Fuck, this class was going to be excruciating if she was going to spend every class fantasizing about the teacher.

Oh, God. Teacher fantasies.

She had made up her mind by the end of class. She would drop it and pick up another. There was no way she could spend a whole hour and ﬁfteen minutes every week trying to ward off visions of him grabbing her and pressing her against the blackboard. Jesus! Stop it! Stop it now, Natalie. She shook her head and tried to make it till the end of class.

It took her another half hour to ﬁnd his ofﬁce on the sixth ﬂoor. She sat on the bench gathering her nerve when the shouting started. Oh dear, she thought. What to do now?

Before she could act, the door ﬂew open and the handsome boy who had helped her before stormed out. He was so angry he didn’t even notice her sitting there. A moment went by, and she ﬁnally got up enough courage to open the door. She had the add/drop slip in her hand. All he had to do was sign it. Surely, she could get that much done.

Just as she opened the door, he came out of his inner ofﬁce door. He looked like original sin in that black bespoke suit. His blue shirt was snug to the point of indecency.

Fuck, he was beautiful.

"Ms. McKesson." He stopped as soon as he noticed her. "Did we have an appointment?" He walked over to the desk that had been his TA’s and ﬂipped open his appointment book.

"Ahh, no," she barely managed to squeak out.

"We can make one. I won’t have time to see you today. I’m afraid I’ve just lost my assistant."

"That’s awfully inconvenient on the ﬁrst day."

"Indeed, it is."

"I was a TA at my last college." Where those words had come from she would never know. Fucking hell, wasn’t she supposed to be getting away from him?

"Were you?" He tilted his head a bit, studying her. "I’m very difﬁcult to deal with."

"You haven’t met my father." Her eyes got big when she realized what she’d said. "Not that you remind me of my father, I just--" She cleared her throat. "I suppose I’m accustomed to difﬁcult."

Sherlock smiled despite himself. “Would you like the job?” he asked. “It’s time consuming.”

"Yes, I would."

"It’s yours."

“Thank you.” She smiled at him.

"Tomorrow, eight a.m., this ofﬁce." He nodded. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I have a meeting to get to."

"Yes, of course," she stammered. "See you," she called back over her shoulder as she walked down the hallway. Once on the elevator, she dropped her head into her hands. What an idiot. I go to drop his class, and walk out working for him. How did I let that happen?

 

As Sherlock walked to his car, berating himself, there was one thing going through his mind: How did I let that happen?


	2. Do I Wanna Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He handed her a bottle of water. "You looked thirsty."
> 
> "You... I looked thirsty?" She hated to sound dense, but she really wasn't following him. And he was standing so close and he smelled so fucking good. "What?" she blurted out, when she realized he had said something.
> 
> "I said, you kept looking at me and licking your lips, Natalie. Naturally, I assumed you were thirsty

"Seven little numbers baby, they could be a start. Seven little numbers, I know yours by heart."

 

Just as Natalie pulled in the parking lot of her apartment building, her phone vibrated and emitted a delicate, tinkling sound, alerting her she had a text.

*You'd best save my number in your mobile, I dare say you'll be needing it. SH*

~Will do, but how did you get my number?~

*It’s in your ﬁle, obviously. Have a good evening, Ms. McKesson. SH*

~You, too.~

How weird is that? she thought. He went to the trouble of looking up my phone number. And he uses the phrase, “I dare say.” She giggled and saved his number to her contacts under “Mr. Darcy.”

She let herself into her apartment and fell into a heap on the couch. She wasn't sure exactly what she should do about the mess she had just made. Maybe she could...certainly, she should be able to squash down any attraction she had for him. She would just do her job, pay attention in class, and go about her life.

Who knows? Maybe he'll turn out to be a giant bag of dicks. I could, very easily, end up hating him. With those cheery reflections in her head, she dragged herself off the couch and into her bedroom to change. “Workout, or scarf down a ridiculous amount of comfort food?” she said out loud as she pondered her closet. Either way, she would require comfy clothes. She chose her favorite yoga pants, t-shirt, and hoodie.

Decision made. Junk food and bad TV.

~

 

Sherlock sat in his ofﬁce staring at his laptop, her number seemingly getting larger and larger every minute he stared at it. He rolled his eyes at himself, something he rarely did, and grabbed his mobile from his jacket pocket.

He didn't have a valid reason to call her, he thought, but since she was his TA now, he should certainly text her his number in case she needed it. Shouldn't he?

Of course he should. He smiled, glad he'd ﬁnally rationalized it to himself. She may need to contact him, so texting his number to her was perfectly logical. Done.

Once he'd returned his phone to his pocket, he continued looking over her transcripts. Very high marks, good attendance, socially active, unbelievably attractive...

Where had that come from? He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He closed the laptop with a snap and swiveled his chair to stare out the window.

But she was --God help him--she was attractive. Why did he even care? He had never cared before. Why was she different, why had he given her a job that would bring him into very close contact with her? Every single day now, he would see her. The thought gave him an instant thrill, which made him frown. So many questions he didn't have the answer to, and God knew he hated not having answers.

After a while he got up from his chair and turned off the lights in his ofﬁce. He would go home, have a nice run on the treadmill, and ﬁgure out exactly what was causing him to act so foolish.

 

~

 

"I dreamt about you nearly every night this week…”

Natalie sat at her desk as he dismissed the class.

"Miss McKesson if you don't mind staying a moment, I need a word with you," Sherlock said as he erased the blackboard. He had taken off his jacket at some point during the lesson and his white shirt ﬁt like a second skin. When the sunlight that ﬁltered through the window hit just right, you could practically see straight through it. One would think that didn't matter with a man's shirt.

One would be wrong, in this case.

"Of course, Professor Holmes," she said, remaining in her seat.

Once he was ﬁnished at the blackboard, Sherlock turned toward the small ofﬁce. "Wait here just a moment," he said, as he went through the door.

A thousand thoughts ran through Natalie’s mind as she sat waiting. She couldn't think of anything she had done wrong and couldn't think of any reason he would keep her behind.

"Don't worry, Natalie, you're not in trouble." He grinned at her. "Yet."

"I'm sorry?" She blinked as she looked up at him. How had he gotten so close to her without her noticing?

He handed her a bottle of water. "You looked thirsty."

"You... I looked thirsty?" She hated to sound dense, but she really wasn't following him. And he was standing so close and he smelled so fucking good. "What?" she blurted out, when she realized he had said something.

"I said, you kept looking at me and licking your lips, Natalie. Naturally, I assumed you were thirsty."

He grinned at her again. How had she never noticed before how completely wolﬁsh his grin was?

"I was...uh...I didn't--" she had not quite ﬁnished her thought when he knelt down beside her and put his hand on her thigh.

"Don't be nervous." He took the bottle of water from her and opened it, taking a long drink. She couldn't help but watch the sinuous way his throat moved as he swallowed. "Drink," he offered, holding the bottle out to her.

She took the bottle and downed the rest of it.

"You were thirsty." He chuckled.

"Must have been." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Is that all?" she asked, hopefully.

"No." He shook his head, his curls bouncing gently before settling perfectly back in place. "That's just the beginning." His ﬁngertips grazed her thigh where his hand had been, but then they moved up and under the hem of her skirt.

"Professor--" She started to protest but couldn't quite manage it.

"My hand is making its way into your knickers, I think you can call me Sherlock," he whispered into her ear. "Unless you'd like to scream out ‘Professor Holmes.’ I'm okay with that, too.” His long, dexterous ﬁngers slipped inside her panties, causing her to gasp.

"Prof...ohhhh."

"Stand up." He groaned as he pulled his ﬁngers from her. He immediately brought them to his mouth.

"Tell me to stop, Natalie. Tell me to stop or I'm going to have you here and now." His voice was low and ﬁerce.

She couldn't have told him no even if she wanted to, which she most certainly did not want. She took a small step towards him and splayed her hands on his chest. "I don't want you to stop,” she said, looking him in the eye. "Please don't stop."

Her head swam when he lifted her legs around his waist, her heart nearly beat itself out of her chest when his lips, that gorgeous cupid's bow mouth, covered hers. She shivered all over and her legs tightened around him when his tongue snaked its way between her gasping lips. Suddenly, she felt the cool blackboard against her back and she felt a giggle bubble up inside her. It got lost before it surfaced, when she felt his hand between her legs again.

"Sherlock." At least that's what she meant to say. The sound that came out was a garbled, whimpering, moaning, cry.

"I know what you like," he growled in her ear. "Such a bad girl, teasing me through a whole class." He grabbed her panties and ripped them off. "Every time I looked at you, I thought I might burst." Still holding her legs around his waist he turned around and sat her on the edge of his desk. "Now, bad girls get punished." He pulled her down until her feet were on the ﬂoor.

"Turn around." His eyes practically glowed with mischief. "Now."

She turned around, her whole body shaking with anticipation and bent over the desk. "So, you know what I like, too." He laughed, low and sinister. "I'm going to fuck you so hard we may break the desk."

Natalie opened her mouth but no words came out. His hand landed on her bare ass in a sharp smack. "I'll have to hear your agreement, sweetheart." He smacked her again. "Can't have you changing your story later."

"Yes...fuck...please," was all she managed.

"Good girl," he cooed, running his hands over the bright red places he had just made. "Such a good girl."

She felt herself push back against him, she couldn't remember wanting anything, ever, as much as she wanted him right this minute.

"Eager, too," he said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. "So very eager..."

She could feel it when he reached down to release himself from the conﬁnes of his trousers, she was squirming against him, he felt massive. Her curiosity was at a critical level.

"Sherlock," she whined, bowing her back, trying for temporary relief.

"Spread your legs, sweetheart," he whispered and tapped the inside of her ankle with his foot. "Lean down." He put his hand on her shoulder and pressed her toward the desk.

She closed her eyes and felt as he positioned himself at her opening, teasing her mercilessly. His hands slid down to her hips and grasped them. She could feel him nearly inside her and it was driving her insane.

"Fuck me!" she screamed, but something was weird. There was a high-pitched buzzing coming from, seemingly, everywhere. She looked over her shoulder and the room was empty.

"No...noooooo." She yelled out and put her hands over her face. When she took her hands away, she was staring at her ceiling and her alarm clock was merrily buzzing by her bed. Natalie picked up the offending object and threw it across the room, where it merrily continued buzzing.

"Fucking, twat-blocking piece of shit!" She ﬂopped back down onto her pillow. That's it, she thought, no more beef before bed."

Eventually she got up, stopped the god-awful beeping and headed towards the shower. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, what a dream. She wasn't sure how she was going to function today with those images in her head. It was going to take a very long shower, strong tea, and perhaps a lobotomy to get rid of those.

Heaven help her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Miss M for her awesome editing skills! 
> 
> Also, thanks to everyone who's reading! Much appreciated. Thanks for the kudos and comments are always welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to my lovely Beta, the Devine Miss M! Who takes the jumble I write and makes as much sense of it as possible. 
> 
> Also, thanks to my peeps BlueEyedCake and Gabby for all the inspiration and help along the way.


End file.
